Tragic Hero
by FallenStar2
Summary: Twenty years into the future, Harry looks back on his past mistakes, including a tragedy that led to the rise of the next Dark Lord. -on hold-
1. In Darkness and In Doubt

Title: **Tragic Hero**

Summary: Harry is forced to face the past when he discovers that the new Dark Lord is his son.

Grand Summary: Based on the Ginny challenges from fictionalley.org. Ginny and Harry brought Sirius back... but  Ron's jealousy gets the best of him and it drives Ginny and Harry apart. While Ginny is forced to run away, Harry  finds true happiness with another until a new Dark Lord rises... and blames Harry for the death of his Mother, a  woman abandoned so many years before.

Ratings: PG-13; adult language, some adult content, etc.

Shippings: Harry/Ginny (obviously), Harry/OC, etc.

Beta-Reading: Alyson has kindly consented her time and energy for yet another one of my projects. I'll probably  be taking on a second beta, especially one a little more intimate with Brit-picking and canon, because while I  love my future sister-in-law to bits, we tend to think a lot of the same things and it could lead to a lacking  story.

Author's Note: I really need to thank Lyndy for this plot bunny. Not only do I really not have the time to take  on a new project of this magnitude, but, hey... I'm not intending for this to be all that long. But then again,  that's what I said about The Slayer's Crusade... and it was, what, thirty five chapters? I'll put the limit here  on 8 and see where fortune takes us.

One of the fantastic girls in the writing guild I write for wrote this awesome song... coincidentally, I borrowed  the title for "Tragic Hero". It's technically for a songfic she's writing, but it would SO apply here. So,  Charity, here is your special plug.

These chapters will likely be from a personal POV. Once you read into it, you'll see who it really is... maybe.  I'll probably tell at the end. Maybe. If I feel like it. And anything in italics or 's is a flashback sequence.  All flashbacks are in THIRD person.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of J.K. Rowling or Warner Brothers or anything else involved in the books or the films.  Honestly. These characters won't be harmed... really.

- - - - -

**Chapter 1**

**In Darkness and In Doubt**

- - - - -

It was raining heavily as I glanced outside the fogged windows at the Hogs Head Inn. I pressed my hand to the  glass and wiped awawy the mist, leaving traces of water and vapor. The glass was cold and my hand grew wet as I  withdrew it and set it back on my lap.

I feel cold and clammy, as though I'm coming down with the flu. I really hope I'm not, since there is still so  much for me to do.

I shift in my seat slightly, careful to hold the veil covering my head. If anyone knew that I was in this  particular place at this very moment, my own life would be at risk. It was too dangerous now to risk this. Far  too dangerous.

The Inn is crowded, as it always appears to be nowadays. It's almost wishful thinking to dream of a time where  the only privacy within an establishment of this nature would be to hide beneath a table.

I glance at the drink held in my hand and breath in the scent. It smells faintly spicy, like a firewhiskey gone  slightly grey. I know I shouldn't be so paranoid, but ever since a group of Ministry employees had been poisoned  by their alcohol, I didn't want to take any chances.

I laugh bitterly. Here I am, in my age, as paranoid as Mad-Eye Moody himself. I jab at the ice in my drink with a  cocktail spoon, ignoring the conversations around me. I don't want to be seen, not here and not now.

The events of the past few years are catching up with me, I fear. Ever since I left Hogwarts, my life has been on  a wild ride from beginning to this very end. Before I have a chance to reminisce, a voice pulls me out of my  darkest thoughts.

"Mr. Potter." It's Lucille, the barmaid. I tip her often and quite well, since my presence here is almost always  necessary to make contacts with my associates. "I believe you have a Mr. Weasley searching for you."

I swallowed hard. This wasn't what I expected to be doing tonight. I had no intentions to talk to any Weasley. I  just pressed my lips together and shook my head ever so slightly.

"But the man insists," the barmaid persisted. I wanted to shout at her, to throw anything at her. But I held my  tongue and looked her in the eye. She hesitated a moment, before turning away. "As you wish."

"Wait," I said, my voice slightly croaky, as though I hadn't used it for a few days. "Which Weasley are you  talking about?"

"He goes by the name Ron," Lucille replied, her voice crisp but reluctant. "He has been around here before,  asking questions about the once-famous Harry Potter."

"Some fame I turned out," I spat angrily, slamming my glass on the table. "You might as well invite him over. The  night isn't getting any younger."

Lucille gave me a quick smile before disappearing back into the crowds of people.

Ron Weasley. He had been one of my best friends once, before the dark times began. Once we'd left Hogwarts, Ron  had gone off to become an Auror. I had decided my fortunes were best suited for Quidditch, an International  Standard Wizarding game played on broomsticks. I had continued my career as long as I could before I retired from  the sport. During this time, I had met another player who played for the Scottish National Team. Before I  retired, we'd married.

It had been a happier time in a dim existence, I realized. She had been an anchor for all the guilt and pain I'd  pushed away for so many years. I allowed myself to become a man. Our children were gifts beyond anything I could  ever have dreamt. My eldest daughter was in her fourth year at Hogwarts and our twin sons had just started their  first.

A year before my daughter ever started, there came some deeply disturbing news from the Ministry of Magic. While  I had taken down Voldemort before, it was nothing compared to the newest Lord rising. Once again, I found myself  the target of a deranged assassin and felt inadequate to place my family in any harm.

It was two months ago that I kissed my wife for the last time and walked out the front door.

It seemed like so long ago. But since then, I'd been running. I know he's been following me. It's just one of  those things you feel, like breathing in the air that isn't safe.

I turned back to the firewhiskey and gulped down a satisfying bit.

Lucille returned a moment later with a very tall man by her side. "Your guest, Mr. Potter."

"Sit," I offered, gesturing toward an empty chair on the other side of the table.

Ron sat, looking slightly put out and even more confused than I dared believe he could be. Glancing at me, I  shook my head slightly. Lucille glanced at the remainder of my drink, made a note on her pad and once again  disappeared.

"So," I began, pressing my fingers together and gazing with apprehension into a face I recognized as a face from  the past, "what brings you to Diagon Alley?"

"You do," Ron said bluntly. "The Ministry has been trying to track you down for three weeks now. Every time we  get close, you give us the slip."

"It's the point," I said coldly, tipping the last of the drink into my mouth. As I swallowed, I could feel the  anger inside of me reaching a boiling point. "That still doesn't answer my question. Why are you looking for me?"

"The Dark Lord has many allies," Ron said, running a hand through his unruly hair, a habit he'd picked up from  Hogwarts. It showed he was particularly stressed and it was usually about Harry. "I know we've had a falling out  since the last time we spoke --"

"I believe it was ten years ago," I replied, gazing at a spot over his right shoulder, as though struggling to  remember. The truth was that I remembered that day exactly.

It was the day that Ginny Weasley's body had been found. Thrown, cast into a river, like a useless puppet from  some underrated play.

I choked down my rage, my fingers tightening over the glass. "Do not tell me you have come to apologize," I said,  my words poison. Ron looked as though he'd been slapped in the face.

"No, no," he said quickly, waving his hands. "I actually came to inform you that Sirius Black was attacked."

My hand dropped from the glass as a cooling sensation soothed the outright anger. "Is he-he all right?" I  stammered.

"He'll be fine," Ron said, waving his hand aside. "But it comes to show that whoever this new mysterious Lord is,  he's coming for you, and it's not just old-fashioned revenge anymore."

"I'm ready for him," I said, without the usual fire my voice held. It was almost disheartening to discover my  godfather had been attacked. The anger came, but it was different. It was full of a deep sadness. I lifted my  gaze just as Lucille appeared and deposited two firewhiskeys onto the table before rushing off again.

"Cheers," Ron said, lifting his drink.

"Ron," I began slowly, "I know that the past ten years have been unbearable..." It was too hard to continue. I  wanted to apologize so badly for being the cold, ruthless bastard I'd been during a time in which the entire  Weasley family was grieving for the loss of their only daughter.

"You loved her," Ron said, his eyes on his drink suddenly. He reached for his cocktail onion and sighed. "I knew  you loved her, but I was so worried I was going to lose my best friend that I--"

My eyes snapped up, confusion filling my face. "What did you do?" I asked quietly, calmly. Getting angry now  would only drive him away. And I'd done enough of that.

"I did it," Ron said, after struggling with his words a few moments. "I drove you two apart."

"No," I said, my voice bitter again. "She did it when she decided not to tell me that she was truly a Black."

"It wasn't her fault," Ron said, all pretense gone from his tone. "It really wasn't her fault."

"What are you talking about?" I growled. "Of course it was!"

"No!" Ron said, glancing up. I was surprised to see the distress on his face. "Don't you get it? Can't you see  it? I drove you two apart!"

"What are you saying?" I asked in a dangerously calm voice. "Did you lie to me?"

"Ginny was never adopted," Ron admitted in a low voice.

Immediately, it began. The anger I had worked so hard to control was gathering again. I felt like I could explode  at any minute but kept my gaze averted for fear that I would. I closed my eyes, counting hard. "What in blazes do  you mean, Ginny was never adopted?" I demanded, my voice sharper than intended.

"Well, she was," Ron said, backpedaling. "She's the daughter of Narcissa Black and my father."

I slammed my hand angrily down on the table. The glasses rattled and for an instant, everyone in the Inn stopped  talking and turned to stare. After fixing them with my fiercest glare, I turned back to Ron. "Now you have to  tell me everything," I said hotly. "How in the hell did your Father get involved with Narcissa Black?"

"She was a good woman before she was corrupted by Lucius," Ron said, defending his Father's former lover with  pride. "He was seduced, as easily as that. When Ginny was born, Lucius couldn't stand to have a Weasley hybrid  being brought up in his immaculate Manor, so Narcissa told my Father to take her."

"I see," I replied quietly, crossing my arms, eager to hear the rest.

"When Lucius was put away in Azkaban after he confessed to being a Death Eater, well, Narcissa snapped. I know  she did some awful things but it was, in part, the reason why Sirius came back to life."

"And no doubt it was the reason why Ginny was always strongly connected with the Malfoy dynasty," I muttered.

Ron nodded. "When my Mother died before the fall of Voldemort, my Dad told us everything. You know. You were  there."

**_"I need to talk to you," Arthur Weasley said, turning to his only daughter, Ginny. She was seated on the couch  next to her boyfriend, Harry. On her other side was her elder brother, Ron. _**

****

**_She stood up, defiantly. "If it's something about Mum, you should tell us all," she said, her voice bold._**

****

**_"Sit down then," Arthur said quietly. "I want you all to know something that happened a long time ago, just after  Ron was born. I was spending time in _****_London_****_ away from my family and came across an old hovel I used to frequent  in my own Hogwarts days. It was there I happened to meet an old girlfriend of mine, one by the name of Narcissa  Black."_**

****

**_"Don't you mean Narcissa Malfoy?" Ron asked, astounded. Ginny shushed him loudly before turning her attention  back to her Father._**

****

**_"I should have told you this years ago," Arthur said, his voice suddenly weak, his face aging far beyond his  years. "I wanted to wait for the right time, but it never came. I know your Mother has only been gone for a short  amount of time, but I need to tell you this before it gets out and you hear it from the tabloids. I'm really not  sure how to say it, so I'll just come out and say it. Molly wasn't your Mother."_**

****

**_Ginny's eyes rounded as she connected two and two. "Oh."_**

****

**_"Oh, my God!" Ron said, his face suddenly full of disgust as he turned to his Father. "After all I've hated the  Malfoys, this really does it in for me!"_**

****

**_"Sit down, Ron," Ginny said, turning to her Father. "Are you telling me that my Mother wasn't a Weasley?"_**

****

**_"Your Mother is Narcissa Black," Arthur replied, collapsing in his chair, pulling off his hat with one hand. His  eyes appeared dazed as he looked back up at her. "She asked if I would adopt you into my family because she knew  the reprecussions of having a child out of wedlock with Lucius controlling the Malfoy dynasty."_**

****

**_"Oh, God," Ginny moaned, placing a hand over her mouth. "Why did you never tell me?"_**

****

**_"I didn't know how," Arthur replied as he set his hat down on his knee. "Molly never told you. She knew it wasn't  her place to. But she loved you like a Mother should. She gave you everything you never would have gotten from  Narcissa."_**

****

**_"Would you stop saying her name!" Ginny asked, her voice angry and tearful. "Don't talk to me like I'm sort of  invalid. I know that you must be dying to hear all of this! You're so useful here with your pity and your lies!"_**

****

**_Harry's reaction was even worse than Ginny's. He looked far beyond stunned when he turned his own gaze to Arthur  Weasley. "Is this the same woman that after her sister took my godfather's life sacrificed her unborn child to  save him?" he asked, his voice soft, yet firm._**

****

**_Arthur nodded, almost pleadingly. "You have got to believe me. I never meant to hurt any of you. In fact, I--"_**

****

**_"It's a little too late for that," Ginny said, a tear rolling over her chin, "don't you think? Father?"_**

"I recall something to that effect," I replied curtly, stirring my drink a bit before taking a sip.

"Ginny never trusted Father again," Ron said, his eyes on the table, as though he were being forced to relive  that painful memory over and over again. "Do you remember what the papers said when he died?"

"It said he died from a broken heart," I said, recalling this. He averted his gaze and stared out at the rain for  a moment. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Ginny was ashamed to be seen with the likes of the one about to bring about the downfall of the Dark Lord," Ron  replied. "As far as I can tell, she never recovered from hearing the truth that she was not the birth daughter of  my Mother. But Mum loved her more than anything. I only wish Ginny knew the truth when Mum was still alive."

"Then maybe they'd both be alive," I snorted into my drink. "Wouldn't you think?"

"Time has a funny way of playing tricks on you," Ron said, his eyes on the table again. "I lost my sister to  time. I lost my Father to guilt. I lost my Mother to Voldemort. And I've lost my best friend to deception."

"Narcissa was an evil whore," I spat out. "No matter how your Father looks at it, Ginny would have always seen  Arthur's betrayal of Molly to be nothing more than a selfish act created from spite. Arthur detests Lucius.  Therefore Arthur felt it was in his best interest to seduce his own wife!"

"You know that's not true," Ron replied, turning back quickly. "I have done everything I can think of to clear my  Father's name. I wanted to do so much more to preserve Ginny in memory. She is, after all, my half-sister."

"But you drove her away," I sneered. "You envied our happiness!"

"I did," Ron admitted. "I was jealous of you for so long that the thought of using Narcissa as a tool worked  against you. I knew that if Narcissa suspected her daughter would be in any danger, she would act out."

"She killed all of those innocent people," I said between gritted teeth.

"She did it for her," Ron said weakly. "I don't know how and I'm certainly not going to tell you why."

I snorted again, dropping my fist onto the table. Whenever the subject of Ginny Weasley was brought up, I usually  made it my business to look the other way. But I wasn't really looking forward to doing it this time. There was  something different about the way Ron was acting.

"Even if you knew, you wouldn't," I said, trying my best to sound civil. "After all, we parted enemies."

"You married another woman!" Ron exclaimed. "You had your entire life set out before you. You had your three  beautiful children and your perfect dream world and the like! Do you want me to tell you why I have loathed you  so much in the past ten years? You didn't have the decency or the guts to show up for Ginny's funeral. You didn't  care enough to be there! My sister loved you! She gave up everything she ever had to be with you!"

If this was a guilt trip, it was working magnificently. I dropped my eyes and stared at my drink for a moment,  before I heard what sounded like my own voice whispering out, "You're right."

Ron glanced up, surprised. "I am?"

I nodded. My lower lip began to quiver. All of the pain and guilt I'd been holding onto for so long was starting  to fade away. The perfect control was starting to shudder under the weight of what I'd done. "It would have been  too hard to say goodbye," I finally said, using any excuse to justify my actions.

Ron didn't buy it. I never really expected him to. "You're a bastard, Harry. A cold, sick bastard. I hope you're  happy knowing you had the perfect Quidditch whore, because that's all that she ever will be. A whore after your  millions of galleons. Those three kids are just an illusion. It doesn't matter what's out there or what's trying  to kill you. The point of the matter is, you're running away from it, again. Just like she did. And in the end,  it'll rip you apart, Harry. It'll kill you."

"Like I haven't thought of that before," I sighed, running a hand along my unshaven face. "If I go back now,  nothing would have changed. For all I know, my perfect existence is dead and the family along with it."

"This isn't just something you can wish away, Harry," Ron snapped. "This is something you have to change on your  own."

From under the table, he brandished a small object wrapped in a red cloth. "I know it's probably one of the worst  things I have ever done, but it makes me feel better knowing that it's in far superior hands than my own."

"Ron," I began, reaching for it.

"Don't bother," Ron said, sending a glare of deepest loathing in my direction. "If you can't be bothered to  change the future, then I guess you really are dead."

As he left, I didn't bother calling him back. That little weasel had infuriated me for the last time. I took my  drink and swallowed down the rest before slamming the glass on the table and signaling Lucille to bring me  another.

The package sat in front of me, welcoming and beckoning. I leaned over and gently upwrapped it, finally holding  up a delicate gold chain with a small instrument at the bottom.

So this is what all the cryptic clues were about, I wagered. As Lucille hurried over with my drink, I waved her  off and stood up.

"Mr. Potter," she said in surprise, "leaving us so soon?"

I quickly tucked the chain and instrument inside my pocket and glancing longingly at the sheets of rain still  pelting the windows. "I have something to take care of first, Luce," I said, bending over and kissing her cheek,  all the while pressing two galleons into her hand. "Thank you."

"Anytime, sir," she called to my back as I pushed my way through the throngs of people and didn't stop until I  was standing in the rain.

I was alone again, on a street corner where no one would recognize me. But I was armed with the truth. All I had  to do was decide where to begin first.

My thoughts dwelled back on Ginny and the events which had led me to the Hogs Head Inn that very night.

And it was quite the interesting story indeed.

- - - - -

My first attempt at darkfic. I hope you liked it.

If you want something fluffier, I have a new crossover in the BtVS/HP section. It'll be updated tomorrow, I  promise.


	2. To Love and To Dishonour

I really don't know why I started this fic. I don't even know if it's been read. All I know is that I had this  really weird dream and it dealt with this plot. So I'm going to get this darkfic out of my system as quickly as I  possibly can.

I'm bumping up the rating too, possibly. I'm changing the summary too, since I really don't know if I can  summarize it yet. It's probably one of the most outlandish things I have EVER written, so I'm a little bit  weirded out.

I know I can write okayish things. This is something that I think is probably not that okay, but it was still  worth it to write. I never could quite find my darkside, so here it is. waves lighter

I'm such a geek.

Anyway, continuing on with the story takes us back into the past to the day after Ginny found out who her Mother  really was. And some more stuff. And, more first person confusion.

- - - - -

**Chapter 2**

**To Love and To Dishonour**

- - - - -

I wasn't going to look at him. He kept staring at me as I attempted to hang up the same set of robes time and  time again. It was as though he were expecting me to fall apart, but I couldn't.

I was numb. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to even begin to fathom what Father told me.

I was not a true Weasley. Well, half of me was. The other half belonged to the wife of the man my Father hated  the most. No wonder he hadn't said anything in so many years. I wouldn't have ever told my children even if they  were on their deathbed.

I pressed my lips together and caught his reflection in the mirror inside my closet. He was still looking at me.  "What do you want me to say?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"I don't know," came his response. "I don't know if I want to comfort you or just... I don't know."

I finally straightened the closet before closing the door. "I'd understand if you were freaked out," I said, my  voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you, Ginny," he said simply. "I'm not going to make this a big deal because it really isn't."

"How can you say that?" I asked, my heart dropping. "I... I don't know how I can deal with this, and you are just  going to sit there and act like you do not care?"

"You know I care," he said, leaning over and taking my hand. "I just... I don't know what to say. The fact is,  you're related to the Malfoys, and that's something that I'd consider worse than death."

"I'd understand it if you'd want to walk away," I said, lifting my head bravely. "I'd know that you'd care but if  it's too hard..." I turned back and lowered my forehead so that it touched the cold, wooden door.

His hand touched my shoulder. "Ginny," he said, his voice full of emotion, "do you really think that less of me?  I would never turn my back on you. I'm going to be here by your side until the end of this. You know I'll stand  by you, right?"

I was crying again. As a tear dribbled down my cheek, I turned back to him. His eyes widened when he saw the  display of emotion on my face. "Oh, Harry," I whispered. His hand came up and touched my cold face. No matter how  cold and numb I felt, he was always there to touch my life, in more ways than one. Every time he touched me, I  felt a spark of electricity soar through me. He bent down and kissed me gently. I deepened the kiss, pressing my  mouth to his. When he pulled away, he was smiling.

"How's my girl now?" he asked, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"I'm much better now, thank you," I said. He took my hands and led me over to my bed. I laid down, feeling  exhausted. Mum's funeral had only been yesterday. Or... Molly's... It was a little confusing to think about.

I felt his arms encircle and tighten around me. I smiled as I closed my eyes, setting my head against his  shoulder. It felt much safer here, lost in his arms, where my mind would wander away from the gathering darkness.  My fingernails lightly traced circles on his arm. "I'm so lucky to have you," I whispered.

His arms tightened further. "And you'll never have to worry about losing me," he whispered into my back. I set my  hand down and covered his arms with my own, closing my eyes again.

Within a few minutes, we were both asleep.

- - - - -

I stood outside the door, listening hard. When Ginny had run to her room, Harry had immediately followed her. I  had trailed behind, but from the sounds of muffled cries and sniffling, I assumed Harry was doing his best to  comfort her.

And here I was, feeling like an idiot, standing outside Ginny's room and eavesdropping on a private conversation.

It wasn't the first conversation I'd spied on. I'd been listening to them ever since Harry had arrived at our  house for the funeral.

Behind me, I could hear footsteps and backed away from her bedroom. When Fred and George appeared, I moved to  intercept them. "How are you two holding up?" I asked heavily.

Fred and George stared at me with watery eyes. Of all of the brothers I had, and even Ginny, they seemed the most  upset about Mum's brutal death.

It had been just after midnight when Professor McGonagall had come and woke me up from a deep sleep. After she'd  collected Ginny, we'd both been ushered to Professor Dumbledore's office. It was then that he informed us our  Mother had been killed in her duties with the Order.

Ginny had immediately fallen to pieces. Watching her cry over this troubling news was hard enough. But then came  the helplessness. Dumbledore had decided that we were old enough to hear every gruesome detail. He had described  explicitly to us what had happened to her.

She'd been killed when she led her group of Wizards into an abandoned building to find the bodies that had been  massacred in a secret meeting. The Death Eaters had been waiting for them. Molly weasley, my mother, had been  killed in the first volley.

Dad appeared via floo powder moments later. Dumbledore recounted the story with the saddest eyes before sending  Ginny and I off to pack. I held back, wanting to determine whether or not we should let Harry know when suddenly  I heard Dumbledore tell our Father something that made my blood chill.

"I know that Ginevra wasn't Molly's daughter," Dumbledore said heavily, "but you must treat her as if she were.  This is a very delicate situation right now. It might be best if she didn't know the truth."

I had fallen back, my jaw dropping in shock. What in blazes did Dumbledore mean by that? I hurried quickly down  the steps and back to the dormitory before either one of them realized I'd heard the truth.

Once I'd gathered a few things together, my gaze fell on Harry. I longed to tell him about Mum, but I held back.  He and Ginny had been going together for months now, since Sirius had been brought back.

The truth was, I was jealous of all the time Harry and Ginny were spending together. Sure, Hermione was still my  other best friend and we really enjoyed each other's company, but I felt like Harry had all of Ginny's  affections.

I held my tongue as I tiptoed out of the room. Ginny was waiting for me in the common room, her eyes wide. "Did  you tell him?" she asked softly, hopefully.

I didn't know whether or not I should lie to her. If I didn't, there was a good chance she'd go back upstairs to  wake him. I forced myself to nod and gave him a tight smile. "He said he'll see us tomorrow."

Ginny's face visibly relaxed.

I hoped that Professor Dumbledore would tell Harry in the morning. Because I really didn't have the patience to  do it myself. And watching Ginny pine away for him was almost disgusting.

"We should go," I said quietly. "Come on."

Ginny gave one last lingering look upstairs before following me. "Maybe we should tell Hermione," she said, her  voice dropping. "She would want to know."

"Dumbledore will tell them both," I said, my voice becoming firmer. "We should go. Dad's waiting for us."

Dad was indeed waiting for us back in Professor Dumbledore's office. He glanced at us anxiously before he handed  me the floo power. "You first, Ron."

I disappeared first, arriving at home.

Inside, I found myself looking at a cold reminder we lived in dangerous times. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and  George were all standing in the small Kitchen, all looking deeply troubled. Ginny suddenly spilled out behind me  with a tiny gasp. I helped her to her feet and she looked around, her face going white.

Seeing our brothers there looking as though the world had come to an end made it that much more real.

Dad appeared behind us and ushered us both forward. "Now," he said as we all sat down, "I need to tell you what  will happen from here."

"Why are we at home and not at Grimmauld Place?" Ginny asked curiously.

Dad held up his hand. "Because your Mother loved this place," he said in a thick voice. "She would have wanted to  be remembered here."

He was right, I decided. I could tell that my brothers thought so too. Ginny still looked deeply troubled.

And that conversation between Dad and Dumbledore was still in my head. Biting my lip, I tried to catch Dad's eye,  but he was looking at Ginny with deepest concern. "Ginevra," he said softly, reaching for her hand.

"It'll be okay, Ginny," Percy said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Looking around, she sniffled. "I wish Harry was here."

That's how it began. That's the reason why I started listening to their conversations. I had been the first  person she had turned to when she was down. Now it was Harry Potter, my best friend. I was losing my little  sister to someone I considered my brother. It was mortifying and yet... it made me sad and reluctant to let go.

I had gone right to Dad and told him that I'd overheard what he and Dumbledore had discussed. I don't know what  had possessed me to do so, but I felt he should tell Ginny the truth.

The day after my Mother's funeral, he did.

And Ginny had fallen to pieces, once again, turning to Harry.

Even though we were both seventeen, it was almost heartbreaking to realize that my little sister was lost from me  forever. I knew I was being ridiculous because I had Hermione, but it was still stupid to think about.

I didn't even think that maybe Harry really did love her. I could tell he did.

And Ginny loved him, too.

I followed Fred and George back to their old room. Fred closed the door while George sat on his old bed, looking  as though all hope had been lost.

"I didn't know any part of me could feel this bad," Fred said, glancing at me. "I never thought I'd feel this bad  about anything."

"Mum died a hero," I said quietly. "She died in the blaze of glory we always thought she would."

"Doesn't make it any less hard," George said softly. "I... I miss her."

"So do I," Fred admitted. "Do you remember all of those rows we used to have? Over the Wizarding Wheezes?"

George smiled sadly. "I really do."

It was so hard to sit there and listen to Fred and George talk about the times when they'd brassed Mum off the  most. Half of me wanted to run away and the other half forced me to sit rooted to the spot.

"I wonder if this is half of what Harry feels everyday," Fred said, glancing at the closed door with something  like pity. "Both of his parents are dead. He really was orphaned."

This was too much. First Ginny idolized Harry. And now Fred and George, selfless as they are, were talking about  Harry and the effects my Mother's death would cause him.

I knew I was being ridiculous, but the next thing I realized I was doing was exploding. "DOES IT EVEN MATTER WHAT  HARRY THINKS? OUR MOTHER IS DEAD! DEAD! SHE'S DEAD AND SHE'S NEVER COMING BACK!"

Fred and George blinked away their tears and stared at me as though I'd grown a second head. "You're right," Fred  finally said. "You're absolutely right."

I drew in a sharp breath and stood up. "Why does it matter, anyway?" I shouted, before opening the door and  slamming it hard behind me. Once I was on the other side, I felt my own emotions suffocating me.

Of course Harry would be the perfect person to deal with. He'd always thought of my Mother as a second Mom to  him. He adored her. This had to be as hard on him as it was on everyone else.

But Fred and George had neglected to mention the fact that our Mother wasn't Ginny's. She was actually the  daughter of Narcissa Malfoy.

A look of sheer disgust crossed my face as I made my way up to the room that Harry and I shared. I opened the  door and was greeted with a surprise. Hermione was sitting on my bed, cradling a photograph in her arms. "Hi,"  she said softly.

My breath caught in my throat. I opened my arms and she ran into them, holding onto me, even when I felt like I  could black out. I still hadn't attempted a breath. "Oh, Ron!" she cried as she sobbed into my shirt.

I held onto her, trying to force the dark thoughts away. "Hermione," I whispered, pulling her back slightly.  "When did you get here?"

"About an hour ago," Hermione replied. She had been there for my Mother's funeral the day before, but had  returned to Hogwarts to take an exam this morning.

This meant that she hadn't yet heard the news of Ginny's parentage. I gently took her hand and led her back to my  bed. "Hermione," I began, squeezing her hand hard, "there's something you need to know about Ginny."

"What?" she asked, seeing the alarm in my eyes. "Is she all right? Is she dead?"

I shook my head no. I couldn't even begin to form the words. I felt like I was betraying my sister by dishing out  to my best friend, who happened to be my girlfriend. I looked away, ashamed.

"Ron," Hermione said, her hand touching my cheek. "You can tell me anything, really. Anything."

I knew I could trust her, I decided. I just wished I could trust myself to make this right decision.

I opened my mouth. And told her everything.

- - - - -

I woke up early the next morning, still in Harry's arms. I gently pried them apart and he rolled over sleepily. I  moved to the bathroom and quickly showered, enjoying the hot spray of water on my tight muscles.

I moved downstairs, trying not to make a sound. Part of me wanted to go back to bed, but the other part of me was  starving. I hadn't eaten anything since my Father had told me that Molly hadn't been my Mother.

As I rummaged on one of the shelves, my eyes fell on a photograph. It was the picture that had appeared in The  Daily Prophet when we'd been on vacation in Egypt. Tears fell freely from my eyes as I touched her lovely face.  She looked so much like me, and yet I wasn't her true daughter.

I set the frame aside with a heavy sigh and returned to the cabinet, pulling down a sack of oats. After making  myself a quick bowl of oatmeal, I noticed someone was sitting in the living room.

It was Dad.

I moved to talk to him, my bowl in hand. "Dad?" I asked softly.

He awoke with a start. "Ginny," he said, his voice exhausted. "How are--"

"Don't ask me how I am," I said quietly, sitting down. I began to stir my oatmeal with great interest. "Just tell  me this... when were you planning on telling me I was adopted?"

"Your Mother and I discussed it and we decided we wouldn't tell you until one of us passed away," he said,  running a tired hand over his weary face.

"Are you talking about my fake mother or my real mother?" I asked coldly.

He seemed to start at that. "I meant Molly," he said quickly, brushing this information aside.

"Didn't you ever think that maybe I'd want to meet my real mother?" I asked him sharply as I took a bite of my  breakfast.

"It never crossed my mind, no," he said.

"She gave birth to me, Dad. I deserved to know about it a long time before you would have told me. My Mother is  nothing but a ruthless murderer and you didn't have enough respect for me to tell me the truth." I was shouting  now, but I no longer cared. I could wake the entire house. Let them feel my wrath and my fury. In my mind, they  all deserved it.

"No," he said, sounding angry now. "Keep your voice down, Ginny. You'll wake the entire house."

"You can't talk to me like that," I said angrily, dropping my spoon into my bowl. My jaw was set and I could tell  my eyes were blazing. My face felt like it was on fire. "You may be my Father, but you're also a liar. You didn't  tell me anything because you thought I couldn't handle it!"

"And I'd be right," Dad said, his face white. "Please, try to understand, Ginny..."

"No," I said. I had heard enough. I smacked down my bowl angrily and stood up. "You're not my Father. I can't  even look at you. I can't imagine why any of your precious sons would. So... I'm the first Weasley girl in how  many generations? Three? No wonder... Molly Prewitt wasn't my mother. Narcissa Black is. And right now, I feel  like I need to talk to my Mother."

"Don't you dare go to her," Dad said, his face completely devoid of all color now. "Don't you walk away from  this!"

"Get used to it," I hissed back as I pulled my robes on angrily. "I have a right to know where I came from! And  if you won't tell me, then why the hell should I stay here?"

I did the next most unimaginable thing.

I stormed over to the fireplace, grabbing my pinch of floo powder. "Malfoy Manor!" I roared as the green flames  sprung up from the little ash and soot remaining. "Tell Harry where I went," I said to him. I could see Ron, Fred  and George coming downstairs behind him and completely ignored him. "Tell him I went to find my Mother."

The last thing I remembered were the flames swallowing me and the distinct feeling of spinning very quickly until  I fell out of the grate.

Gasping, I leapt to my feet and looked around.

"Where am I?" I wondered, seeing all of nothing in the dark room. I leaned behind me, feeling for a light switch.  There wasn't one.

"Draco! The rest of the fruit is downstairs! Get it for me!" It was a distinct female voice.

I could hear footfalls outside the door. Seeing I had no place to hide, I pressed my back against the wall as a  door opened and light spilled in, admitting Draco Malfoy. He was muttering as he switched on the light. He moved  quickly to the pantry on the other side of the room. I dared a step out, but the boards creaked beneath my feet.

"Who's there?"

Draco's voice sounded terrified. Before I could take a second step, he glanced out. His eyes widened when he saw  me standing there. "So..." he said, smirking. "So..."

I felt as cold as the blizzard raging outside. This had to be the worst Christmas holiday I had ever had. As he  glanced me up and down, I felt frozen to my spot. "Um... hi..." I said weakly.

He crossed the room in two paces, seizing my arm. "What the hell are you doing here, Weasley?"

There were more footfalls as someone sighed heavily out in the hall. "Draco, what is taking you so--?" Her voice  cut off when she saw Draco and a girl next to him. "What... what is this?"

"I'm trying to figure out the same thing," Draco sneered, glancing at her. "Why is Ginny Weasley in my house at  this particular moment?" He swung his gaze back to his mother. He was stunned to see she'd gone very white. "Mom?  Mom!?"

"It's my fault," Ginny whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the older woman. "You know..."

The woman nodded.

And then she fainted.

- - - - -

And the best is yet to come. In the next chapter, Harry finds Ginny's grave. And Draco learns that the Weasley is  actually his half-sister.


	3. The Meaning of My Existence

**Chapter 3**

**The Meaning of My Existence**

- - - - -

I was still walking long after the rain stopped pouring. It was barely drizzling when I found myself staring at a cold, stone gate.

I was drawn to this place, uncertain as to why. I can tell dawn is coming soon, since it's a lot less dark than it was a few hours ago. I don't know what time it is, nor do I really care. All my mind is focused on is stepping inside this cemetery and finding the headstone I have been dreaming about for so many years now.

I stopped suddenly, feeling as though someone were watching me. I no longer had the energy to look up and check out my surroundings.

I walked a few steps further before stopping, certain that this is where I needed to be.

Sure enough, there was a headstone in front of me, in the very corner of the large and ancient graveyard. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the gravesite of one Ginevra Weasley.

So here is where she lay, buried underneath several feet of cold, frozen ground, buried forever in a box. I tilted my head, trying to imagine how she must look. She had been dead for so long, it made me shiver just to think about what remained down there.

I forced myself to look away and continue walking down the long line of graves. There were others here. I wasn't surprised that there weren't any Weasley graves in this particular lot. Ginny was a disgrace to the name of the Weasleys that it would have been almost a humiliation to place her plot with the rest of the family. I assumed they were buried at The Burrow, but I couldn't be certain. I almost wished I had asked Ron.

Most of the Witches and Wizards here were a disgrace to the entire community. I recognized Bellatrix Lestrange's cracked granite headstone and my hands tightened in anger. She was the Witch who had attempted to kill Sirius. She had deserved her death, no matter which Auror brought her down.

Come to think of it, it had been Ron who had finally tracked down Bella.

I made a mental note to thank him someday.

I walked to the end of the road and stopped when I saw a few unmarked graves. Surely these belonged to children, the nameless innocents lost in the desperate battle between good and evil.

I bent down, gently brushing dead grass and mud from the one footstone. It wasn't even marked. I stood up again, with cold, wet knees and stared helplessly at the graves. Had the Malfoys not had one spark of humanity, Ginny would have been one of these nameless bodies, lost in time.

I shuddered and turned to go when I noticed a cloaked figure approaching rapidly. I glanced at him through veiled eyes. It had to be a him. He walked like a man with a purpose.

He stopped just short of me and stood there. I brushed my hair from my eyes to get a better view, but I couldn't really tell who it was from here. My voice was still a bit ragged, but I tried it anyway. "Who are you?" I asked in a croak.

He surveyed me through pitiless eyes. "Harry Potter."

It was a voice. A dark voice. It was a voice that had been haunting my dreams. It had haunted my memories. It held traces of the hatred Lord Voldemort had inspired. I also knew in my heart that this was the man who had attacked Sirius. "Who are you?" I asked, my voice stronger than I intended.

A slim, pale hand lifted and made to brush aside the hood. When the hand disappeared, I was stunned to see a face so much like my own. I actually gasped when I saw the jade-green eyes and the sharp, angular features that were so prominently displayed in my face.

"Who are you?" My voice held more confusion this time, but I could sense little surprise in his face.

"I should have known you would not recognize me," the man said coldly, his eyes narrowed as his arms crossed. "Then again, how could you recognize your own flesh and blood if you had never seen him before, and abandoned him and his Mother to a life of nothing?"

"You..." I gasped, unwilling to even begin to fathom what he was talking about. "You...?"

"My Mother was Ginevra Weasley," he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "And you, Harry Potter, are my Father."

I blinked, unwilling to even digest this information. I was still in a state of shock of seeing a much-younger version of myself. "How can I be your Father?" I asked.

"Mother told me the story the night before she died," he said coldly, running a slim finger down his cheek. "Do you not remember your last night together at Hogwarts?"

Of course, I thought. Of course. I remembered that night. It had been simply one of the best nights of my life.

Three days later, I recalled, it had all been over.

"Mother said you abandoned her after her own Mother--"

"Don't you mean Narcissa Malfoy?" I asked, anger returning to my voice. "She murdered an entire street full of Muggles, innocent Muggles! And Ginny stood by her side."

"She was her daughter," the man replied, his own anger rivaling mine. "What was she supposed to do?"

"Narcissa was a Death Eater," I retorted, pulling out my wand. "I never, ever would have expected someone I loved to stand by the same people who worshipped the... being that destroyed my life!"

The man was also drawing out a wand, his eyes blazing with fury. "She loved you."

"And I loved her!" I shouted back. "But I could not stand by and watched as she threw her life away just like that."

The man laughed, a scornful sound. "Which brings us to this very moment. I have already lost one parent. I have been spending the better part of the last few years growing powerful so that I could kill my other. Apparently your fame has run out on you, Harry Potter."

His own wand lifted. I quickly raised my arm. We circled each other. "If you don't think I'm going to protect myself, you're wrong," I hissed.

"I expected you to," my son replied coldly. "But you see, the same protection your Mother gave to you, my Mother died to give to me. Her love protects me, which is more than I can say for you. Your wife was very accomodating when I visited her a few days past."

Bubbling hate filled my stomach as I looked at my own son with disgust. "What did you do to Meiran?" I asked angrily, my wand hand trembling slightly. "What did you do to my wife?"

"She was never meant to be your wife, Harry Potter," he replied through gritted teeth. "She was nothing more than a whore."

This anger was beyond anything I had ever felt before. I was so tempted to curse him, to kill him, but I held my tongue. "Did you touch our children?"

"They were not harmed," he said, his tone almost bored now. "But you see, I was not willing to wait for you to come back. I know your style. You see something bad and you run from it."

"Didn't your Mother ever tell you it was she that ran away?" I asked him as we continued to circle each other. "She abandoned me."

"She came back for you and found you with another woman," my son replied, the boredom fading away into a yawn. "Imagine my surprise that less than a week after that little visit, my Mother was dead and I was left with this incredible desire to hate you, to kill you and to destroy your life the way you destroyed mine."

Something snapped in my head and my wand lifted slightly. The package in my pocket. Of course.

"There is a way I can bring her back," I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I stop. "All I want you to do is hear me out. I think there is a way we can do this without either one of us having to die."

"Speak for yourself," he replied. "I have been looking forward to killing you for a long time..."

"Is that what Ginny would have wanted?" I questioned him. The look on his face answered my question as his wand slowly lowered until it was resting gracefully at his side.

"No."

- - - - -

It was a beautiful day following the last of my N.E.W.T.'s. As I walked out, feeling considerably happy that I'd finished my Transfiguration N.E.W.T. with the best of my ability, I spied Ron and Hermione, the Head Boy and Head Girl, sitting together underneath a tree overlooking the lake. It was the same tree that I'd seen my own Father sitting under in the memory of Snape's pensieve.

Before I could interrupt them, I noticed they were sound asleep, his head resting lightly on hers, their arms wrapped around each other. Not wanting to disturb them, I turned sharply and saw Ginny walking uneasily across the path. She was enduring taunt after taunt from the ruthless Gryffindors.

So much had changed for Ginny since she'd arrived following Christmas holidays at The Burrow.

After she'd disappeared to Malfoy Manner, Arthur Weasley had followed her. It was there that the entire truth came out. Right in front of Draco Malfoy, who looked on with horror to realize the youngest Weasley was actually his half-sister.

He had risen to the occasion admirably, I decided.

Unfortunately, the truth was quickly spread. Ginny was half Malfoy. It was humiliating for her, yet Draco, of all people, stood by her, acting the protective older brother. Ron had been very bitter about this and it caused many rows. Hermione and I had had to step between the two to stop them from killing each other so many times.

Sure enough, Draco came rushing up the path and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders, glaring at the group of fourth-year Gryffindors with something like loathing. I quickly rushed to her own defense, finding my tongue and snapping at the younger kids to bugger off.

Draco looked at me with something like respect. Ever since he'd discovered Ginny was his half-sister by his Mother, he'd been protective to her and almost eerily nice to me. He seemed to realize we both wanted the same thing and that was to protect this little sixth-year.

Draco handed Ginny off to me and I took her by the hand. "Thanks, Harry," she said, sadly looking over her shoulder. I squeezed her hand as we walked back inside the school and into the courtyard. "I almost wish this wasn't the life I had."

"Don't worry about it," I said boldly, wrapping my arm lovingly around her. "I love you, Ginny. And you have two big brothers looking out for you now."

"Is that the reason why Ron's nose was broken and Draco had two black eyes?" she asked timidly. I saw her shoulders tremble and pulled her closer.

"Oh, Ginny, Ginny," I said, rubbing her back to comfort her. "This isn't your fault. You can't help who your parents are!"

"I know," she said, her voice hushed as she pulled back. "I just wish I could wake up and find out that this has all been a nightmare."

"It isn't all that bad, Gin," I replied, taking her hand. "Really, it isn't."

"My Mum is a Death Eater," she said, her eyes going back and forth, as though she were battling inner demons inside. "And I--"

Suddenly a small third-year Slytherin ran into the courtyard, clutching a copy of The Daily Prophet. "Did you hear? There's been another massacre!"

"What?" Harry asked, taking a few steps forward. But he froze when he saw the portrait on the cover. Behind him, Ginny gasped as the large photograph of Narcissa Malfoy came into full view. She stood there, smirking, her long dark hair flowing behind her as she winked at them. "What did you hear?" Harry demanded of the two younger students.

"Apparently she killed a street full of Muggles," the Slytherin girl sneered. Her eyes fell onto Ginny. "I guess your Mother's just like one of us."

"Oh, Gods," Ginny gasped as she collapsed on the bench, her eyes completely glazed over. "Mum..."

I returned to Ginny as the two Slytherins continued on. "Are you all right?"

"Who am I?" Ginny gasped. "Harry, you know my Father is a very decent and very hardworking man, right? Why does my Mother have to be such a violent disgrace to the Wizarding community?"

"It happens," I said, helping her stand up. "Come on, let's get in for dinner."

By the time we reached the Great Hall, the word had already spread. I held her hand as we walked to the Gryffindor table amongst all of the whispers and laughter. I knew they wouldn't try anything as long as she was standing by my side. When Ron and Hermione entered the Great Hall, they, too, held their heads high as they sat down and began dishing up.

Afterwards, I could tell that Ginny was still very shaken up. Draco told off many of his own Slytherins and made sure Ginny was all right.

I realized that it would be better if Ginny spent some time away from the Gryffindors. I moved up to the Room of Requirements and after a few minutes, we were inside.

It was made to look like her room in The Burrow. I led her over to her bed and gently set her down on it.

I had never been more proud of her. She had held her head so high amidst the jaunts and sneers. She had been so strong for so long, I just wanted her to cry.

But she refused to cry as she sat in the center of the bed, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, rocking herself lightly back and forth. I watched her from the shadows.

Finally, she sighed and stood back up. "Harry..."

"Are you ready to go back down?" I asked anxiously, stepping forward.

She gazed at me, shaking her head. "Not yet... please, no... not yet."

"What do you want?" I asked, moving to her side.

"Can you just hold me?" she asked, her eyes filling with the tears I'd been expecting her to cry all night.

I leaned down and touched her face. "You don't always have to be so brave, you know," I whispered.

A single tear trickled down her cheek. I bent down to kiss it away. Her hand reached up and entertwined mine. My lips sought out hers and I felt a strange heat through my body as our bodies connected. As the kiss deepened, I found myself wanted more, to crave her more. She didn't pull away. I could tell she didn't want to.

Looking back on that night, I don't remember exactly what had happened. I remember the ways our bodies had pressed together, our anger and guilt and confusion melting into each other. I held her in ways I had never truly held anyone in my life. Her lips had traced fire down my neck and shoulder, driving my instincts on further. She cried out and I held her hands, holding her to me, not wanting to let go. She never asked me to, even when I gently kissed the tears from her eyes. Our bodies were spun, weaving together emotions too complex to begin to understand, the angst of our youth being spilled out as our movements grew with passion.

When it was over and we were both completely spent, I held her, feeling like I was someone who was so completely in love.

I had fallen asleep. She lay there, tracing circles on my arm. Her eyes held little of the guilt she'd been holding since she'd found out the truth of her Mother.

They were now blazing with anger. It was her anger now that was driving her. I didn't feel it that night because I didn't want to.

A few hours later, we returned to Gryffindor. It wasn't that late, not even ten o'clock. But I knew that I was too late when she turned around before heading to her own dormitory. She kissed me, but it didn't hold the fire it had once held.

As she walked away, I felt like she was slipping from my grasp. I was losing her.

But to what, I wasn't certain.

I would find out soon enough.

- - - - -

The morning after, I stood in the mirror, gazing at myself. Was I supposed to feel different? Was I supposed to feel older?

I didn't feel different and I certainly didn't look any older. I was still the same Ginny staring in the mirror. Only, I was a Ginny who had so completely surrendered herself to someone I had loved since I first laid eyes on him.

Even to my cold, bitter heart, the words sounded foolish.

In my mind, I was thinking about the article. I had managed to find a copy the night before when Harry brought me back. I had read it over and over in my room, thinking hard. Now that I thought about it, the angrier I became.

I went to breakfast without waiting for him. On the way, I met Draco and Ron, having still another row over me. Ron was defending me as a Weasley. Draco was defending me as a Malfoy. Funny, since I considered myself to be a Black.

I walked past both of them, ignoring them both, even though they forgot about their argument and called after me.

After breakfast, I went directly to see Professor McGonagall. I really needed her advice, more than ever. I knew that Dumbledore was well aware of what Harry and I had done, but I no longer cared. I needed to speak with a woman. Hermione wouldn't do, since she was too close to Ron.

I knocked on her door and she admitted me, surveying me almost sadly though her spectacles. Dumbledore had probably told her what was going on as well. "Ms. Weasley, come in."

"I'm not sure how much longer you'll be able to address me like that," I said, folding my hands in my lap as I sat down. "I need to speak with someone that doesn't know what has been happening."

"Of course," she said, surveying me. "Does this have anything to do with Mr. Potter?"

So she knew. Maybe the entire faculty knew. Probably the students too, since my life had become so important to them.

Before I knew what had happened, I snapped. I jumped out of my seat, all of the anger, frustration and guilt flowing out. She blinked, taking every bit of it until I was spent and could no longer scream, no matter how much I longed to. Instead of dissolving into tears, I held my anger in check and set my jaw.

She looked down, almost ashamed.

Shame. She was ashamed to be in my company. Everyone was ashamed to see a Malfoy hybrid walking around. I spun on my heel to leave her office when she spoke up behind me.

"You have, no doubt, performed the charm to keep you safe?"

I froze. She must mean the form of birth control. I really had no reason for her to suspect anything else. I turned back and glared at her defiantly. Without a word, I left her office.

In my mind, I was formulating a plan. With any luck, I'd be able to break out of these walls which were starting to feel even more like a prison. I also held in my mind a plan that would give me a piece of my once-fragile heart.

Harry and I had done what two people in love would always do. And I was going to take a piece of him with me to carry, always.

I just had to let him know I loved him before I said goodbye.

- - - - -

To be continued.


	4. Beginning of the End

I am really getting depressed just writing this... I can't begin to imagine how you might feel reading it. It's meant to be a depressing darkfic about mistakes and bad choices. I think I'll peg it at 8 chapters and be done with it. It's getting painful to write bad things about characters I love.

In this chapter, more confusing first person stuff. Ginny leaves Harry a note; several years later, Harry tells her son what happened; Ron intervenes.

_Part III of the Wednesday triple update. I just felt like updating all three together. This was a hard chapter to write, hence the time it took for me to update._

**Rating**: I have bumped it up to R, for mature themes, adult situations and language. It really isn't PG-13 anymore. It isn't R yet either. It's more of a PG-15. Feel free to read it, just don't be surprised I actually raised the rating. Again.

- - - - -

**Chapter 4**

**Beginning of the End**

- - - - -

Ron and Ginny were having a blazing row one night when I returned from dinner. They were standing in the common room, arguing. Hermione cowered in a chair near the fireplace. She was yelling at him about being too overprotective. He was telling her she was too young and immature. The problem, I decided, is that they were both right.

"Would you two stop?" Hermione finally said, drawing her hands from her face.

"He started it," Ginny said, looking as though she were about to spit on her older brother. "He came in here and started accusing me of spending time with Draco who just happens to be my older brother, too."

Ron snorted rudely. "He's a git, Ginerva. How can you spend time with someone you've hated for so long?"

I had been wondering that myself but refused to take the bait. Ginny was looking at me somewhat desperately, but I kept my mouth closed. After that night together, we hadn't spoken hardly at all, except to exchange condiments or else comment on Draco and Ron's blazing rows.

"You're an ass, Ron," Ginny finally said, storming past him. She walked up to me and looked me coldly in the eye. "And you're no better, Potter."

Hermione looked stunned as Ginny stalked past me and up the stairs. "What was that about?"

I couldn't tell them. I didn't have the heart to.

In the past few days, things had changed drastically between us. I loved her, certainly. But it had changed in the face of the evil times. Ginny's true mother was nothing more than a murderer. Ginny was starting to act a lot like her Aunt Bellatrix, I thought bitterly.

We hadn't fought at all. She hadn't been around me enough to even instigate an argument. All I know is that every time I looked at her, I saw sheer determination in her dark eyes.

I forced myself to sit next to Hermione as Ron dropped into a chair across from us. "What the hell has gotten into her?" Ron asked in a subdued voice.

"I'd say it's her Mother," Hermione said matter-of-factly, turning back to her studies.

Yes, I silently agreed. It was her dear, murderous bitch of a Mother.

I went to bed shortly after that. No one else was in the dormitory when I went up and for this, I was relieved. I wanted to spend some time alone, to think things over.

Before I knew it, sleep had overtaken me.

I could feel her in my sleep._ We were back in the Room of Requirements, lost in each others passion. I could feel her moving beneath me, her small fingers spreading across my back as our lips met harshly, drawing one another in deeper. _

_I heard her gasp and glanced down. Her eyes were closed as emotion overcame her._

_"Ginny," I whispered. She looked up at me with eyes shining with love._

_"I love you," she whispered, smiling. Her skin was glowing. I bent down and kissed her forehead and rained small kisses along her jawline. _

_"I love you back," I said, laughing slightly._

_Her arms twisted back around my neck and she pulled me closer, her lips meeting mine softly._

_I pulled her back into my arms once I rolled onto my side. She snuggled in deeper as we just lay there, lost in our own thoughts._

I was awoken early the next morning by the sounds of screaming. I forced myself up, nearly upending a bit of parchment that had been carefully placed on my pillow. Pulling on a robe, I ran out of the boy's dormitory to see Ron standing in the common room, a look of pure terror on his face.

The entire room had been upended. I was stunned to see that the chairs had been slashed and the precious artwork around the room looked like it had been taken off the walls and beat against them for a good, long period of time.

But that wasn't all that was wrong. Hermione stood next to Ron, a letter in her trembling hands. She looked up at me with tears in her eyes. I realized a lot of my housemates were gathered around me, but her gaze focused on me. "Oh, Harry," she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Feeling slightly panic-stricken, I returned to my room and grasped the letter.

_Dear Harry --_

_By the time you wake up in the morning, I will have gone. I have some things I need to do and caring for my Mother is one of them. When you open up The Daily Prophet, you will learn that my Mother and Stepfather have both escaped from Azkaban. Do not be angry with me. I just have some things I need to figure out before I can come back to Hogwarts._

_Professor Dumbledore and I talked before I left and he agreed it would be best if I withdrew from my classes. Please pass this information on to my friends._

_I never meant to hurt you. I didn't mean for anything to happen. I love you more than I love myself right now, I think, and it's scaring the hell out of me. Just know that when the time comes, I never loved anyone more._

_Yours forever,_

_Ginny_

I was still holding the letter when Ron and the others walked back into our room.

"Are you okay?" Neville asked softly from behind Dean and Ron.

Ron stepped forward and picked up the letter from my shaking hands. He read it. And then he began swearing bitterly.

"That bitch," he finally snapped, dropping the letter on the floor. "That bitch."

I couldn't say anything. I felt as though my insides were frozen.

I was probably still this way when Hermione, followed by her own roommates Parvati and Lavender, walked inside our room, all three of them staring at me.

"He's in shock," I heard Ron say to her.

"Oh, dear," came Lavender's pitiful voice.

I wanted to hit her. I just didn't have the energy to. I wish I could have cried, but no one could have forced the tears from my eyes.

I felt a cool hand touch my face and I looked up to see Hermione's eyes full of concern.

"Forget about her, Harry," she said, staring into my eyes. "She isn't worth this."

"I...I..." The time for confessions had come. How was I going to tell Hermione, of all people, that I'd... damn. "I love her," was all I could say, and it came out stupidly. Hermione didn't avert her gaze.

"What did you do?" she asked directly.

"You know," I said lamely.

Her eyebrows raised in surprise. Thus, she did. "Oh, Harry..."

I wanted to cry so badly then, but my eyes still felt roughly dry. I felt her hand take mine. "I loved her," I said bitterly. "I loved her more than anything and now..."

"It's okay, Harry," she said gently. "It's okay."

"No, it bloody well isn't," I snapped, jumping to my feet, sending Hermione to the floor. "It isn't okay, Hermione! Don't you know what we did, what we shared? It was something everyone in love does, and now..." My voice felt choked. I wanted to scream more, to stare into her stupid face and just rant until every bit of anger and guilt flowed from me. "She broke me, Hermione. She broke me."

Hermione was staring at me in horror from her position on the floor. "It isn't your fault, Harry," she said sadly. "It's nobody's fault but her own."

I clenched my fists, raw emotion pouring from me. I couldn't talk anymore, but I could gape and close my mouth and repeat those actions long enough to ensure her of my fury. I could hardly breathe I hurt so badly.

She stood up and did something completely unexpected. She hugged me, holding me to her. Her hand rubbed my back uncertainly. "It'll be okay, Harry."

For the first time, I felt tears in my eyes.

"How can you say that?" I asked her.

She still hadn't let go of me. "Because time heals everything," she said, a haunted look in her eyes.

_Time_, I snorted. Time heals everything? Try explaining that to me, who'd lost a set of parents and his godfather. My only living relatives were my aunt and uncle, who were the biggest hypocrites I had ever met. And although Sirius was back from the dead, it had left our relationship dark and tense.

And then there was Hermione. She was offering me an escape, a way to vent my emotions. I had probably hurt her when I'd sent her tumbling to the floor.

I pulled back slightly, keeping my hands on her shoulders. "Thank you," I said seriously. "And... I'm sorry if I hurt you."

She smiled through her own tears. "You're welcome."

- - - - -

I stared coldly at my son, who's hands were shaking now. I could swear his wand was about ready to fall from his grasp.

"M-My mother left y-you?" the young man asked in a trembling voice.

"You're damn right she did," I said bitterly. I still hadn't been able to forget that moment. "I loved Ginny more than anything. Anything! And she abandoned me."

"She came to you, later on," the boy replied, his wand arm lifting again. "And you shunned her."

"I am a married man!" I roared back, my voice echoing eerily through the cemetary. "I had a son! I have responsibilities to them, now. If your mother hadn't acted like such a flaming whore..."

"Don't you dare," the man said, lifting his wand and pointing it at my forehead again. "Don't you dare call her a whore. I heard enough of that from my uncles all of these years. The ones my dear Daddy abandoned me to. Oh, right. I'm not supposed to love my Uncle Ron, who was the very being who drove her mad. Or Uncle Percy, who is convinced I was the next Dark Lord, I. I wish I could have seen the look on his face the day he died. He would have been right."

I just stared at my son. He had my eyes. Those deep green eyes that were so full of hatred.

"Do you want to know what else happened?"

"I don't want anything from you, except your head," my son spat out. "I've learned to hate you for so long that this is going to feel so right."

"You're an idiot," I snapped. "You don't know everything!"

"I know enough!" he shouted back, a few gold sparks emanating from the end of his wand. "My mother wasn't the flaming whore you said she is. You are! Taking in another woman when you knew my Mother would spend every day praying you would come for her!"

"She did," I said finally. "One night, after my son was born... she came for me."

"She told me about that night, too," he sneered. "A few days after that passionate night, she was dead. And you would never have to worry about her marking your perfect life again."

I did something he didn't expect just then. I pushed my wand back into my pocket and lifted my arms, giving him full view of my body. "You want to kill me?" I shouted. "Go right on ahead. You'll never know the truth. We can change what happened, if only you'd just listen to me."

"The truth is just that you're some sappy tragic hero who gets his edge from saving people's lives," my son replied bitterly. "But you couldn't save her, could you Father? No one could..."

- - - - -

The night after Harry saw Ginny for the last time, he called upon Ron. Harry needed to see him for some reason. In fact, there was a good reason.

They met at a small pub on the outmost edge of the city. As soon as Harry arrived, he looked mildly surprised to see the expression on my face. Harry was so sure he appeared pissed off that when he sat down, Ron asked Harry if he'd been crying.

"Yeah," Harry said softly. "I was."

This launched into an explanation of what had happened the night before. Ron looked extremely surprised to find out his sister had moved out of Malfoy Manor and had gone to see Harry, although their contact had been cut off for well over ten years.

"She came to your house, mate?" Ron asked incredulously.

Harry nodded mutely. "Meiran was at work and I was just settling baby James down to sleep. I saw this shadow and went to investigate it..."

_"Who's out there?"_

_"Harry, please, don't be angry."_

_"Who are you?"_

_"Someone you once knew, perhaps even loved."_

_"Ginny..."_

Harry told Ron about the first conversation, a light darknening in his eyes.

_"Please don't be mad, Harry."_

_"I'm not. I'm... surprised to see you."_

_"I had to see you again, for one last time."_

_"What are you talking about?"_

Ron stared at Harry suspiciously.

"She knew her life was in danger," Harry sighed heavily.

_"They're coming after me."_

_"Who?__ Who's coming after you?"_

_"I destroyed my family, Harry. Can you not imagine who wouldn't hate me?"_

_"I don't."_

Harry shook his head and ordered another rum. Ron got it for him.

_"I... just wanted to say goodbye, Harry."_

_"Again?__ You're getting too good at this, aren't you, Gin? First you show up at my house in the dead of night and then..."_

_"I just had to see you again."_

_"You already said that. Do you know what you did to me? DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO ME?!"_

_"Harry, please..."_

The two glasses arrived. Harry drinked a long sip in one satisfying gulp, feeling the heat rush into his stomach.

_"I loved you and you just gave it all up to be with that murderous bitch. Her sister killed Sirius!"_

_"We brought him back, Harry. The both of us, together! Don't you remember that?"_

_"Of course I remember. It was one of the best nights of my life."_

Harry stared at his glass for a moment. Then his temper got the best of him and he smashed it onto the wooden table. Ron looked at him in shock. "What is it?"

_"I never forgot about that night, Harry."_

_"Well, I did. Didn't have much of a choice, did I?"_

_"I'm sorry, Harry." She was crying now. "I'm so sorry."_

_"It's a little late for that, don't you think?"_

_"I didn't come just to see you. I had to ask you to forgive me for hurting you all those years ago. I can't... live with it... anymore."_

_"Good for you. Go back to your heartless family and leave mine alone."_

_"Harry... HARRY! Don't go, please! Stop!" A pause. "I love you."_

The barmaid walked over to the table, apologizing for the faulty glass. Ron handed Harry his full glass, his eyes imploring the other man to continue the story.

_"You... you love me? YOU FUCKING LOVE ME? I waited years for you and you never..."_

_"I..."_

_"Don't even try." His voice was as cold as ice now. "Don't even try to tell you love me. If you loved me half as much as I loved you, you never would have left us. Never."_

_"I just want the pain to go away."_

_"It took me ten years to get over you. It took me ten years. How long did it take you? Five minutes? An hour? A day?"_

_"Harry..."_

Harry dropped his eyes, not wanting to continue the story, but knowing that Ron wanted him to.

_"What do you want from me, Ginny? Do you want to throw my happy life in my face? I worked for this. I spent decades working for this."_

_"Harry... please..."_

_"You're a hypocrite, Ginny. You want what you want. I never had that chance. So you had a different mother, congratulations. At least yours isn't buried ten feet underground. So take your attitude and get the hell out of my house."_

_"I'm sorry I came back here."_

_"You should be." He was trembling now as old emotions over came him._

"She told me she was sorry," Harry said to Ron, unable to explain what happened next. "And then I... then we..."

_Before Ginny could move, Harry had seized her body and slammed it against his outer wall. "What do you want from me?"_

_"I need your forgiveness."_

_"Do you want something else?"_

_"No... I... damn it, Harry, you're hurting me. You--"_

_Her voice was cut off as something else overcame her. His lips crushed onto hers and she felt all of her pain, all of the guilt in the one embrace. Her hands trembled to his face as she responded with all the passion she could, trying to make up all of the years she'd been dreaming of being in his arms again._

_He suddenly broke away from her, fury in every line of his face. "Is this what you wanted?"_

_"I didn't want it to end this way," she whispered._

_He took her lips again, his touch rough and brutal, but there was a passion behind it._

Ron glanced at Harry over the table. He didn't quite know what to say.

- - - - -

To be continued...

Chapter 5 - Harry and Ginny have a little affair... and I'll be bumping up the rating once again to my first ever posted half-sex-scene. Whoo.

As I said, dark dark fic. It does have a happy ending though. I will tell you that much. You're probably thinking "how in the hell can this fic have a happy ending?" It just does.


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